I'll Make A Man (Or Something Else) Out Of You
by Red Witch
Summary: Pam tries to convince Ray to join her in underground fighting.


**Pam did something to the disclaimer telling you that I don't own any Archer characters. Just some fun little fluff that came out of my tiny deranged mind!**

 **I'll Make A Man (Or Something Else) Out Of You **

"Hey Pam," Ray walked down into the basement of the Figgis Agency. "You got some mail. Looks like some of those cow magazines and some letters from a Bermuda prison."

Pam was busy pounding the hell out of a punching bag. She was wearing a white sleeveless shirt, jean shorts with sneakers. "What are you doing?" Ray asked as he put the mail down on a table.

"Directing the London Symphony Orchestra," Pam grunted. "What the hell does it **look** like?"

She stopped and turned to look at Ray. He saw that she had a black eye. "It looks like you went to an actual food fight where the food decided they'd had enough," Ray said. "Pam what the hell happened?"

"It's nothing really," Pam waved. "I went to an underground fight last night."

"Oh dear God Pam…" Ray groaned.

"I made almost three grand," Pam grinned. "Not too shabby for a few hours work."

"Pam…" Ray said in a worried tone.

"Ray it's just a little bruise," Pam gave him a look. "I've had worse injuries from our office Christmas parties. A little makeup will cover it right up."

Pam looked at herself in the mirror on the wall. "Seriously, for a guy that was supposedly a bodybuilder that little bitch couldn't punch for shit."

Pam turned to Ray. "I guess I was lucky I was demoted into the lowest class of fighting."

"Demoted?"

"Well technically not demoted as much as forced to start back in the scrub leagues," Pam groaned. "Apparently being a champion in the New York Leagues doesn't mean jack shit out here. Did you know the Yakuza don't even run this town's underground fighting league?"

"Do I want to know who does?" Ray asked.

"Some jacked up mob boss wannabe," Pam waved. "Apparently the Yakuza prefer to focus on the drug and high-class porn trade. More lucrative in this town."

"What about the drag races?"

"Some other gang is in charge of that," Pam said. "Didn't ask."

"And of course, no one told," Ray said. "And yes, I see the irony of me saying that."

"You know if you actually practiced fighting instead of whining you might be able to make something of yourself in the ring," Pam told Ray. "For a guy with bionic limbs you can't duck to save your life. Hasn't anyone ever taught you to bob and weave for Christ's sake?"

"You sound like my father," Ray grumbled.

"Oh crap," Pam rolled her eyes. "Sorry! I didn't mean to board the Daddy Issues Express. But I'm guessing he didn't teach you how to fight did he?"

"No," Ray said. "It was my grandmother."

"I'm guessing she could hit harder than you," Pam snorted. "Even now."

"You know…?" Ray began. "I know Krav Maga."

"And you hardly **use it!"** Pam snapped. "You sure as hell didn't in that fight at the Swindon."

"He surprised me okay?" Ray snapped. "And I forgot I had bionic legs!"

"How do you forget you have **bionic legs?"**

"Do you remember you have **regular** legs?" Ray asked.

"YES!" Pam told him. "All the time!"

"Well I just try not to think about it too much," Ray grumbled.

"I'm just saying," Pam thought. "With that bionic hand and if you learned to use those legs in a fight…"

"I'm not going into underground fighting!" Ray snapped.

"What? Are you too pretty?" Pam scoffed.

"Yes!" Ray sniffed. "Besides isn't it technically cheating?"

"So are steroids, crow bars and electric shock gloves," Pam waved. "But I've seen plenty of guys using them in the fights and nobody says a damn thing."

"Pam I'm not **that** desperate for work yet…" Ray groaned.

"Well then maybe you should learn how to fight just to survive," Pam pointed out. "I mean how can a guy with bionic limbs get knocked out in the first punch in a fight?"

"I **forgot** okay?" Ray snapped. "I just don't like to abuse my bionics!"

"More like you don't like to **use** your bionics," Pam pointed out. "Let me see what you got." She pointed to the punching bag.

"I don't know," Ray paused. "I don't feel like it."

"Don't feel like being a man. What a shock," Pam rolled her eyes.

"You know…?" Ray glared at her.

"This is why people think you're a pushover," Pam added.

"I'm not a pushover!" Ray snapped.

"Oh please!" Pam said. "When it comes to peer pressure you fold faster than a champion origami maker!"

"Name one time…"

"Teacup pig."

"Besides Hamlet!" Ray snapped.

"Area 51," Pam looked at him.

"Besides **that!** "

"The Uptown Cloister Party?"

"Oh my God," Ray said. "You know those were all the rage back then!"

"It was only two years ago," Pam said. "How about the time your Dad forced you into that Pray the Gay Away camp and pressured you to get married?"

"First of all," Ray stiffened. "I was young and confused back then. And my father…"

"Was an abusive asshole who would give Ms. Archer a run for her money in the World's Worst Parent contest," Pam snapped.

"You don't know everything that went on back home," Ray glared at her.

"I heard **enough** ," Pam said. "Jesus Ray the man used to beat you with a god damn fan belt. Even Edie never went **that** far. And making you kill a bear with a bow and arrow when you were ten and eating its heart…"

"Watch it," Ray snapped.

"No wonder you're gay," Pam waved.

"You know…?"

"The sad part is you're still attached to that asshole who probably never even cared about you," Pam went on.

"You think I don't **know** that?" Ray shouted. "I've tried my whole life to please that man! But nothing I ever did worked! Not even winning all those medals for track and qualifying for the god damn Olympics! I know I have Daddy issues because subconsciously I am always trying to please my father who was ashamed of me! No matter how normal I tried to be!"

"Well guess what Daddy?" Ray shouted. "Being gay **is normal**! You know what's **not** normal? Treating your first-born son like shit for every little thing but throwing a **party** for your second born son the first time he got arrested! It's not normal to run a meth lab slash pot farm to make a living instead of getting a god damn job!"

"Uh Ray…"

"And yes Pam, I see the irony about the time we tried to run a god damn cocaine cartel and failed!" Ray snapped. "But at least we didn't try to sell our stuff out of a god damn port a potty!"

He closed his eyes and tears started to leak out. "I've **tried** to let it go. I've tried and tried but I'm still so angry. And hurt. And yes, I cry when I feel hurt! Why shouldn't I? I can't help that! So, what if it isn't what a real man does?"

"WELL GUESS WHAT DADDY?" Ray shouted as he focused his anger on the punching bag. "EVEN THOUGH I'M A GAY CYBORG I'M STILL MORE OF A MAN THAN **YOU** COULD EVER HOPE TO BE!"

Then he hit the punching bag with his bionic hand.

BOOOM!

Not only did the punching bag completely fall apart when it broke off the chain and impacted the wall, it left a huge hole in it.

"Dukes," Ray winced. "Cyril is not gonna be happy about that."

"Holy shit Ray…" Pam whistled.

"Yeah well…" Ray winced as he backed off. "Sorry. Bionic hand. I kind of forget how strong it is sometimes."

"Okay," Pam looked at the hole in the wall. "Maybe you have a point about cheating?"

"Especially when it's so damn obvious," Ray grumbled.

"We're gonna have to work on that," Pam admitted.

Ray let out a breath. "Dukes I know it's horrible to say this. But I'm glad my Daddy is dead. He didn't live to see me become a freak."

"Oh please," Pam waved. "You were a freak way before your bionics."

Ray looked at her. "You're one to talk."

Both Ray and Pam laughed at that. "Come on Dick Nuts," Pam put her arm around Ray. "I'll buy you a drink."

"You actually have money for a drink?" Ray snorted as they left.

"I was thinking of stealing some of Archer's secret stash," Pam admitted.

"There's actually some of Archer's alcohol **left?** " Ray asked.

"Didn't say **which** Archer," Pam pointed out. "I know Ms. Archer has some of that fancy champagne still stashed away."

"And since she's out at the hospital…" Ray realized.

"While the bitch is away," Pam smirked. "The other bitches will par-tay!"

"Drinking expensive champagne with a friend and screwing Ms. Archer," Ray snickered. "I'd like that. This is turning into a good day."

"Aww," Pam smiled. "You think we're friends."

"Course we are," Ray grinned. "We've been through too much shit not to be."

"Thanks," Pam smirked. "You are like one of the gals."

Ray gave her a look. "What?" Pam asked innocently.


End file.
